


Promise You’ll Stay

by Liquirkx



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, piers tried to kill himself, theyre boyfriends guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquirkx/pseuds/Liquirkx
Summary: Chris has assumed Piers dead. Well, he shows up... And Chris is more than happy when he stays for good.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Promise You’ll Stay

July 1st, 2013. That was the day Piers Nivans was presumed dead. It had been one exact year since that date. No matter how much it was talked about, how long it’d been, how much coping he’d done, there was nothing Chris could do to make the day any easier. He’d called the day off his training duties in favor of staying home, too unmotivated to leave his bed. The patch that the soldier had given him was clutched tightly against his chest, still left unclean with dried blood on it. It would have been disrespectful and rude to clean something he was gifted, especially from his, at the time, best friend.

He stared at the wall, inhaling sharply through his nose as he lifted his phone, going through messages upon messages from oh so long ago, staring at the messages from Piers as though they were such a treasure. There was a small sniffle, followed by a starting sob as he turned the phone back off, turning it over and setting it on his bedside table. Chris turned over, holding his hands over his eyes as if he were trying to shield himself from a sight he didn’t want to perceive. It was partially true. He didn’t want to face the world without Piers, didn’t want to be in this reality without him, didn’t want to look at anything that he was able to unless it was with  _ him _ .

There were so many things Piers had missed out on. The wonderful celebration of saving the world, the amazing fluffy, multi-flavored cake covered in sweet, vanilla frosting and littered with little decorations and small patches of little, edible flowers. So many months gone by, the beautiful snow of the winter, the wonderful Christmas party at the BSAA— Piers wasn’t there to see any of it. Thoughts like this haunted his head, hurt him so much. Oh, how he would give his life for that damned cocky sniper to be here today. How he would give anything to see that stupid fucking smile, see the light in his eyes when he was happy. Oh, what he would do.

Chris closed his eyes, eyebrows knitting together as he wiped his eyes free of shedding tears. He rolled onto his back, trying to think of something else. Cats, animals- sunsets, sunrises, beautiful beaches and high mountains— all to no avail. It was futile. All thoughts came back to Piers. A huff left him. Maybe he could just go to sleep, maybe he could just ignore it and forget about the day all together. Who needs the first of months anyways? He certainly didn’t. All that they brought was another month of work. Who cared.

_________

July 13th, 2014, 09:32PM

“Piers, you need to slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” The nurse urged, tailing after the man as he moved rather swiftly through the halls. A huff exited his nose. “So what if I hurt myself? My team is still out there, the BSAA is still out there,” he paused and stopped, turning to the nurse. “And, until you’ve seen as much as I have, don’t tell me to ‘slow down’.” Piers stated lowly, turning around quickly to continue his pace. The nurse sputtered before chasing after him still. Persistent.

He was quick to push through doors, shaking his head to himself as he stormed to the front exit. As he left, he looked back to shoot the woman at the front desk a glare, huffing out once more. A glossed-over eye and a hazel one looked over the parking lot ahead, taking off in a dash. Security would be called on him to contain him, he knew it would. He had to get far enough away as to not be seen by the on-campus cameras. It wasn’t like he was as quick as he was then, but he was still strong after the C-Virus infection. If he had to fight his way through some kiss-ups who only wanted the female nurses to notice them, so be it. He could take a few zaps. It’s not like he hadn’t been infected with a virus that conducts electricity oh-so-painfully through his body. 

There was a moment he took to think, deciding to take off towards the nearby sidewalk, crossing the street beside it quickly and dipping into an alleyway. A few minutes later, he watched as the hospitals security left the building in search of the runaway patient. He watched them as they walked near the same path he took, and he glanced at the security cameras on the lamp posts before dipping further into the alley.

He sighed as he let out a grunt of pain, collapsing against the wall behind him as he curled into a hunch. Knees pulled to his body as pain throbbed into his left arm. He had to keep going. He had to get somewhere familiar. He had to—

But he couldn’t even stand right now. Pain seared through his body, and he sobbed out, covering his mouth with his right hand. He winced as a migraine pounded across his skull, his pulse loud in his ears. It silenced every other noise around him. He felt so weak so suddenly, coughing and sputtering as the pain only worsened. 

Eventually— only about fifteen minutes later, really— he had curled into the fetal position on the cold, rough pavement of the alley. His eyes shut tight as he squeezed the no longer pristine white shirt from the hospitals wardrobe. His teeth clenched tightly, listening to his quickening pulse. There were spots behind tightly shut eyelids, crying out softly as he stayed where he was. 

It wasn’t long before the pain caused him to lose consciousness, passing out in the freezing cold area. His chest heaved, arms relaxing slowly and releasing the fabric held tightly in his grasp.

Meanwhile, Chris was called in to do late night training with the new rookies. He was struggling to keep his thoughts straight. The new sniper that was recruited into the BSAA’s training reminded him so much of the man he’d lost one year, twelve days ago. He watched as the man followed every command given, shot every target nearly spot on- if not perfectly. There was so much potential, so much promise, and god— it hurt to see just as much, if not more, than it gave him joy. Now, he was trekking them through the nearby mud flats of the base, all through the cold and the wind. Forcing them forward to see their abilities, and watching as the man seemed just as quick and eager as Piers did— no, shut up, stop thinking about him. He’s not here now.

Chris forced a grin as he watched the new recruits make it through, the chill clear by their reddened cheeks, noses and ears. He hummed approval as he pressed a finger to his radio. “Good job. Let’s see how well you do in the agility course.” He said calmly— as calm as he could by still sounding encouraging, at least. The care he’d had for all of his previous men still held up here.

_________

July 16th, 2014, 07:23PM

Drowning his sorrows is what he called it. What he called throwing back so many beers and eating the steak at the infamous bar Piers and Chris had finally started their journey after extensive training from the both of them. The bar that Piers helped him get away from. 

He’s sure that he would laugh if he’d seen him now. Yell at him, even. “You shouldn’t be drinking so much, Captain,” he’d say, “You’ll ruin your health”. The thought caused him to set the beer in his hand, instead moving to pick up the fork resting inside the meat on the plate. Chris shoved a bite into his mouth, staring at the greens and potatoes with a sigh. 

He could’ve sworn he’d been so lost in thought and hope that he’d seen Piers at this point— maybe he truly was going insane. Maybe it was the guilt, the hurt of not being able to see him every day to meet up with him. Maybe he was finally caving into every little thing he’d been telling himself, finally giving in to the thoughts of “it’s your fault”, “he would never forgive you for leaving him”, “he’s dead”. It hurt so much. His heart pulled at the thought of that precious, cocky and god damned beautiful sniper being alive, being here, being in his arms with him— oh, he was lost in it, wasn’t he?

Another sight of the aforementioned sniper as he looked up. A shake of his head as he looked back down, staring intensely at the food below him.  _ “It wasn’t real, Chris. Stop driving yourself insane like this, Chris. You’ll push yourself to drink more” _ the thoughts said, nagging in his head and  _ loud _ , he couldn’t ignore them anymore. He was getting dizzy, but then—

“Captain?” Piers questioned, placing his hand gently in the table and taking a seat across from the other male, staring at him. Redfield looked back up and stared for a moment, bags under his eyes from so many sleepless nights. The same nightmare of finding Piers only to have him ripped away again at the very last second— but he was here. In front of him. Scarred, left eye glossy white like milk and rippling pinkish-red scars all along his left side. Chris huffed out a small “ha”. He knew it.

“You aren't dead, and the first thing you do is come to a bar?” Chris Jones lightly, relishing the small chuckle he earned from the sniper. God, he was beautiful, he wished he could pull him in right now and kiss him— “I figured you be here. A good reunion never hurts, especially after months in a hospital.” Piers replied with a hum, offering a kind smile to the captain. Chris returned it with a warm look overtaking his eyes. He still couldn’t believe it. The man he’d become practically best friends with— god, that’s such a childish term to him— was alive, and sitting in front of him now. He was just there, gorgeous as ever, beautiful and oh so elegant just as he was before he vanished. 

What’d he do to pull him close and kiss him, hold him for the next years to come, trace every scar over his arm and neck and chest. How he wanted to take care of him, help him through everything to come and support him through it all. The more he thought, the more he realized. He was in love. He scolded himself for not coming to terms with it sooner.

“Could’ve had the facility call me any time, soldier.” Chris stated, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. Piers shrugged and tilted his head. “I never thought about that. I don’t know if they have your number on record.” He replied.

“You think that I, Chris Redfield, haven’t been to the hospital enough for them to have my number  _ memorized _ ?”

“I do guess that you’re making a fair point. Anyways…”

Piers rested his arms on the table, sleeves of the plush yellow sweater pulled over them to hide the scarring. The man dreaded it. Every ripple in his skin, every obvious sign of tearing, the sickly red-pink hue of it across the span of it. The thought of being unable to hide it on his face made him wince.

“What have I missed, Captain? I imagine it’s a lot,” He asked, waving over a waiter to order a drink— a margarita. “So tell me about it. I want to know everything. How’s Claire?” Piers continued, tilting his head. A curious glint was in his eyes, and Chris just had to take in everything about him again. He was gorgeous, a lean but incredibly strong body ( _ if what he’d gone through was any tell _ ), a gorgeous hazel eye, the left glossed over white. It didn’t matter, it was still all the same. Piers was gorgeous. Watching him shoot his AMR was truly something else, the power it must have taken to even get close to be able to hold such a weapon. Thoughts of him behind able to disintegrate a persons spine with those hands weren’t distant anymore, and the more he considered it the more it became probable. There wasn’t a doubt that the sniper had killed with those thighs as well. 

“... Claire’s doing alright. You’ve missed a lot, you’re not wrong there.” Chris started, lifting another bite of the steak to his mouth. After it was properly chewed and swallowed, he began describing everything. All of the parties and comedic moments the sniper had missed, the fun nights of drinking after a mission. All of the sweets and meals that the team had together, the angel cake that tasted like pineapples, covered in savory vanilla frosting and sprinkled with coconut. The missions that he led without any falter, the men that had actually  _ lived _ , and all of the times that they had joked with him afterwards. The time when Claire had brought the album from their childhood to the base, showing all of the men and women of his team the embarrassing photos, how they all laughed at him and he laughed  _ with them _ , entertained by their joy and the comedic value behind some of the photos. Everything was covered. Every time he cleaned his gun, every sleepless night of training— no detail was forgotten.

Piers was taken aback, mouth gaped as he stared at the other man. A hum left him after a moment, followed by a content grin. “So… You all had a lovely time without me there, huh? I’m happy for you,” He said, trying to hide the small amount of sadness in his voice. He should’ve gotten away from the hospital sooner. This entire time he could’ve gotten away and spent time with Chris, the  _ team _ . “Piers, don’t think like that. I missed you the entire time.  _ We  _ missed you.” Chris replied, forcing down the urge to reach forward and grab the mans hand, reassure him, tell him how much he meant to him. 

The ace sniper couldn’t deny the feeling of jealousy he had either, knowing that there were men who got to see Chris every day, talk to him every day— it hurt so much. He ignored it. “You did, huh? Sorry that I didn’t come back sooner.” He muttered, moving his arms to hide them under the table, hands clasped together tightly. A sigh left him. “Don’t apologize. You just needed to heal, yeah? To rest up and relax. You needed that.” The captain chimed, leaning forward a small bit. “It’s okay, Nivans.” Chris shoved another bite into his mouth. “It’s okay.” It helped relieve Piers to hear those words spoken in such kindness.

_________

July 16th, 2014, 10:56PM

Chris had offered Piers a place to stay, the guest room at his place. The room was barren besides a bed and an extra dresser the captain didn’t need. It was small, but enough for Piers to get comfortable in. Downstairs, Chris was watching TV, giving the sniper space to acquaint himself. 

Extra clothes that no longer fit Chris were left in the drawer, still big on Piers but comfortable. He could finally change from the clothes he was stuck in for over a year. One of Chris’ old band shirts covered his chest, oversized and the fabric gentle on his body. Large sweatpants covered lithe legs, a bit bunched up around the ankles but comfortable nonetheless. He paced to the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror and casting his gaze over his body. His scars— god, he hated them. Chris had stared at them in the rear-view mirror on the ride here, he felt it. The feeling of it hurt. Was he being judged by his superior? God, he hoped not. He had always held an admiration for him and he really didn’t want to feel as though he was under intense scrutiny from him. He wasn’t the most attractive. Not anymore, at least.

Piers brought a hand to his face, covering the scar and wincing. It throbbed under his touch, warm and the skin rippled so uncomfortably. His gaze slowly moved to his arm, the destroyed skin, the sickly color, everything about it was  _ wrong _ . There was so much racing through his mind and it  _ hurt _ , he wasn’t going to ignore it. What if the captain saw him as weak for letting this happen? He should’ve stayed dead. He shouldn’t be alive. It all ached so horribly, he wished he could go back and  _ stop fighting _ , go back and  _ give up _ . It wasn’t too late to just give up, he thought. Never too late. 

But for now, he sucked air through his teeth and walked back out from the bathroom, slowly walking down the stairs and looking at Chris. He exhaled slowly and walked over to the couch, sitting on the opposite side as the man. 

“You’re finally down here, wow. Was starting to think you fell asleep.” Chris said with a chuckle, looking over to Piers calmly. Piers offered a fake smile. “Sorry. I just needed a minute to think. That’s all.” He replied, voice quiet and gentle. Chris nodded.  _ “Thinking about what?”  _ He wondered silently, but he didn’t question. It wasn’t his business what Piers had going on in his head. “No worries, I was just worried, soldier.” He replied finally, crossing his arms. Piers hummed a response, yawning and looking at the TV screen. He was overall uninterested, too lost in the thought of  _ you can end it now, you can give up. Nothing’s stopping you. _ It was something he couldn’t ignore. It was true that he could just end it now, tie a noose, take a razor out from Chrises razors in the bathroom. 

“Hey Chris?” Piers started, inhaling slowly and looking back to him. “Yeah? What’s up?” He replied, taking the excuse to stare at him. Piers shifted under the scrutiny. “... Nevermind.” He shook his head. Chris frowned. It was better not to press on the matter, he decided.

God, what was he thinking? He couldn’t just tell Chris about his thoughts, tell him about  _ hey, I saw you staring and I just want to know if you’re disappointed in me _ . He was a fool. A sigh left him and he stood again, walking over to the stairs before he was stopped— “Where are you going?” Chris asked softly, nothing pressing or rude. Just a question. “... To bed.” Piers replied, quickly making his way up the stairs. Chris waited a moment before he followed, staring at the closed door of the guest room.

He expected nothing, but was still caught off guard when he heard small sobs and sniffling. His breath caught in his throat and he didn’t say anything whatsoever, just stayed out in the hall and listened as the sniper sobbed and whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Chris, you shouldn’t have to see me like this,” Piers whispered. Chris had heard very vaguely, only barely catching the words. He gently rested against the door, careful not to make any sound as to not disturb or scare the man inside. “Please,” He heard Piers say. Please what? He didn’t understand. “Please don’t hate me, please don’t,” What? Don’t hate him? What’s wrong with him? Why did he think Chris hated him? It was so much the opposite. Very much so the opposite. He wished he could just say as much.

The crying got quieter and he heard shuffling. The snapping of plastic and a sniffle. Where has he gotten something plastic? It was strange. There were more sniffles, and a hiss. “I’m sorry captain,” His speech was slurred and he heard a sharp intake of breath before a strained, quiet grunt. The sound— it…

It wasn’t right. Something was  _ so fucking wrong _ .

He barged into the sight of Piers with cuts along his arms and two across his neck. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, pain evident in his eyes as they slowly moved from the ceiling to the man in the doorway. Piers gasped as Chris stared at the sight, unable to move and purely  _ terrified _ , what was he supposed to do!?

“Chris, I-..” Piers started, cut off as Chris rushed forward and pulled the sniper into his arms, wrapped tightly around him and protective. How didn’t he know? He was foolish. “Piers, why didn’t you…” He asked, pressing him away to pull his shirt over his head and press it to Piers’ neck, doing his best to stop the rapid bleeding. “... I’m so sorry, Piers. I’m so so sorry,” He rambled, pulling Piers back to his chest and petting his hair. Piers let out heavy breaths, taking a moment before he clung tightly to his captain and began to sob once more. His eyes shut tightly, ignoring reality the best he could with painful, stinging cuts on his arms and neck.

“Why couldn’t you just…” Chris cut him off. “Shush. I’m not… I’m not losing my lieutenant again.”  _ My lieutenant? _ Piers questioned in his head. Tears pricked Chrises eyes, cascading down slowly over his cheeks and into his well-cared for beard. Hearing his sniper so pained hurt. “God damnit, Piers,” He muttered, staring down at the lieutenant and petting over his cheek and brushing a thumb over his cheek. “I fucking love you, Piers, I—…” He stopped. The ace looked up to him. “Captain-,” He cut in, only to be stopped once more. “I always have and I couldn’t… Being without you for so long hurt so much, I can’t lose you again, I can’t, Piers, I swear to god,” He continued. “Captain,” Piers started again, and this time Chris let him continue. “I love you too, I—,” He paused. “I didn’t see it… Before,” He said, leaning into the hand on his face. Chris was warm, gentle with him. It was nice.

Chris stared for a moment, using his free hand to gently pull away the cloth across the mans neck. “I’m… Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

And that’s what he did for him. After a long bath and Chris combing his fingers so gently through soapy hair and taking his time tracing over gorgeous scars gently, he helped Piers out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. The captain set him on the toilet, using a separate towel to ruffle through his hair and dry it out, ruining the iconic hairstyle Piers usually had further. Chris moved to a drawer and pulled out gauze and bandages, wrapping it gently around his neck and arms and around his wrists, kneeling to hold the mans hands.

“Piers, promise me something?” Chris asked, kissing gently over every knuckle and looking up sweetly at the sniper. “Mmm?” Piers replied

“Promise me you’ll stay.”

“I will, promise.”

And he did. That night was filled with Chris pulling the other close, kissing over Piers’ forehead, fingers moving to massage over scarred tissue and admire it. 

What felt like hours was only a few minutes, relishing in every kiss and every touch to each other. Chris wouldn’t let Piers go ever again, hold him close forever and remind him every moment of how much he loved him, tell him how he admires and appreciates him, tell him how important he is. There wasn’t a moment that passed without Chris telling Piers of the snipers importance and how much he’d loved him.

After Chris had fallen asleep, Piers cuddled up tightly to the captain's chest comfortably and nuzzled against him.

“I love you, captain. I promise I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Red if you’re seeing this thanks for being so god damn patient with me
> 
> My Instagram is Vendilicious.arts and my Twitter is liquirkx!! Go ahead and give me a follow there ;)


End file.
